Locked in the Closet
by Safety-Hazard-XDLOL
Summary: Donut and Sarge are sick and tired of Simmons and Grif's sexual tension, so Sarge sends Donut on a mission to deal with it. GRIMMONS.


**Locked in the Closet **

Donut smirked as he sat in the kitchen. He drummed his fingers along the table absently, smirking to himself as he waited patiently for Simmons and Grif to walk in.

Surprisingly enough, Sarge had told Donut to go through with what he was about to do. The man had approached him one morning with a very stern look on his usually serious face, explaining to Donut that he was sick and tired of Simmons and Grif at the moment, and that he was sending Donut on a _mission _to solve the problem.

"You're up early."

Donut looked up with a grin as Simmons somewhat stumbled into the room. He was wearing nothing but a white t-shirt and star wars boxer shorts; his usually neat red hair was messy and unkempt. He made his way over to the coffee pot, flicking it on before sitting down across from Donut.

"Yeah, I guess I couldn't sleep."

Donut wasn't completely lying; it was hard to sleep whilst so excited.

They both sat in a silence that was neither awkward nor pleasant. A simple silence brought on by the lack of things to talk about. It wasn't long before the coffee pot whistled and Simmons jumped up excitedly, craving his morning coffee as usual. As the red head prepared his morning drink, Grif stumbled in.

A loud yawn alerted Simmons to his presence.

"Morning."

Simmons said pulling out another mug subconsciously for Grif. The Hawaiian mumbled his reply before taking a seat where Simmons had been sitting moments before.

"So Grif, Simmons. I was wondering if you would help me out today."

Donut had to hide his amusement, which he did by distracting himself by staring happily as Grif's bare chest. Grif was wearing only a pair of orange boxers, his hair as messy as it usually was.

"What kind of help?"

Simmons inquired politely as he placed Grif's coffee in front of him before sitting to the side of him with his own drink. Grif thanked him quietly.

"Oh well I found this man hole in the roof of one of the cupboards, and I thought you two could help me check it out."

Grif downed his coffee quickly, a dribble of it running from the corner of his mouth. Simmons rolled his eyes, extending his hand and rubbing it away with his thumb. The contact made Simmons and Grif both blush, which definitely went noticed by Donut.

"Sure, why the fuck not."

Grif finally chocked out, shrugging his shoulders.

Donut sat patiently as both Simmons and Grif finished their coffee. Sarge had told the three the night before he was going to be visiting mission control, so he could leave Donut alone to execute the plan. It was all going well so far, and Donut had high hopes as Simmons finally let out a content sigh when he found the bottom of his cup.

"So are you ready to check it out?"

Simmons raised an eyebrow.

"Can we put some cloths on first?"

Donut frowned slightly. He was really hoping he could get them to follow him in as little clothing as possible.

"Come on! It won't take long!"

Donut whined, pulling the best puppy-dog pout he could muster.

"Fine."

Simmons rolled his eye with a sigh, both oblivious men standing up and following Donut down a few halls before stopping in front of a single door. With a smirk the blond opened it, revealing the empty, small equipment closet.

"Now, I was thinking Grif could hoist Simmons up to reach it. I can't because I'm too short."

Simmons and Grif walked in without much question, much to Donut's joy. He slammed the door shut behind them happily, locking the door with a key he had in his pocket. He grinned broadly when he heard shouts of somewhat distress.

Simmons grimaced, banging his fist against the door in a mix of anger and a lame attempt to break free. Grif on the other hand was yelling obscenities.

"DONUT YOU FUCKING FAG! YOU'LL LET US OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW YOU COCK-SUCKING BASTARD! YOU HEAR ME!?"

Grif and Simmons were uncomfortably close. No matter how they manoeuvred themselves, they were constantly touching. Both their backs were against the wall now, their knees touching and chests centimetres apart. Grif had quieted down considerably.

Simmons opened and shut his mouth, mimicking a gold fish. He was glad the room was dark to hide his deep blush.

"Why the fuck did Donut lock as in a closet?"

Grif grumbled out. Simmons could feel Grif's warm breath on his face, the scent of coffee filling the tiny space.

Simmons shrugged as a response, trying his hardest to focus on anything other than their close proximity. Simmons was oblivious to the fact Grif was feeling the same way.

"Not sure…"

The room fell into an awkward silence. An extremely awkward silence that felt thick and uncomfortable. Simmons wanted to be able to bicker like usual, complain about Donut or just the silence to be at least bearable.

Grif was having trouble ignoring the knee that was scraping dangerously close to his groin. He blushed furiously, his dark skin and lack of light hiding it completely. Grif wondered about the situation.

They were alone.

Simmons would have to listen.

And most importantly, there was no room for Simmons to throw a decent punch at him.

With this all in mind, Grif decided on a spare of the moment impulse that now was the perfect time to do it.

Simmons's green eyes widened to the size of diner plates as he felt Grif's lips brush his. His breath hitched, and his entire body froze.

Grif bushed a little harder, trying to spark a reaction out of Simmons. He needed some kind of indication of how the red-head felt about the sudden personal space infiltration.

Grif finally pulled back after a long moment. He nervously met Simmons's gaze, regretting his decision with a burning passion. Grif suddenly thought about every negative thing about showing how he felt in this confided space.

Simmons didn't remember how to speak.

"Look, I'm really sorry Simmons. I didn't think that through at all really. I like you, like really like you. And I know you pretty much hate me and only talk to me because there isn't anyone else but I just want you to know that-"

Simmons cut him off with his own mouth, leaning forward to shut Grif up. Simmons brought his hand up slowly, cupping Grif's cheek.

"I feel the same way, even if you are a jack-ass."

That's when the dam broke.

Grif leapt forward, grabbing both sides of Simmons's face and bringing him forward to meet his lips. The Hawaiian pushed his body onto Simmons's and rocked his hips, grinning into the kiss as Simmons moaned lightly.

Simmons wrapped his arms around Grif's neck, pulling Grif closer to him. The two men were as close as they could possibly be to each other, which wasn't good enough for Grif. Simmons jumped in surprise as Grif grabbed him under both legs, hoisting the skinny man up so he could wrap his legs around Grif's waist.

Donut smirked as he pressed his ear to the closet, pleased with the muffled moans that could be heard through the door.

The pink glad man skipped down the hall and all the way to Sarge's office, knocking lightly on the door before walking in without waiting for a reply. Sarge looked up from his paper work with a raised eyebrow.

"Operation 'Get Simmons and Grif over their Sexual tension' was a success, sir!"

Sarge grunted his thanks before giving Donut the day of as a reward for pulling of what seemed impossible.

Later on Grif would go on to say Simmons was probably the first guy alive to get laid in star wars boxes, much to Simmons and Sarge's horror and Donut's delight.


End file.
